Archive for the ‘faith’ Category

It has been longer than I can remember since I was on this site and wrote about anything. The summer and fall (and now winter??!) seem to have evaporated like a mist in the morning sun. It has been a time of great stress, struggle, and opportunity to see God at work. And I had to take the time (make the time) to write this.

Through it all, although sometimes not immediately at the time, I’ve seen the hand of God in the timing, the sequence, the types of events. And I’m grateful, thankful, for what He has shown me.

That mom was holding the phone when she fell, and could dial 9-1-1. That there was surprisingly little pain for her, allowing her to remain calm, and comfortable-ish. That she could call a neighbor to let the paramedics in without breaking a window or the door (one less problem with which I’d have had to deal). That the closest hospital was on by-pass, sending her to a better one. That my work slacked off at just the right time for the time that I couldn’t be there. That there was a transportation goof on a Tuesday that meant she wasn’t able to be discharged from rehab on Monday…which would have been the Monday after the tree came down. That she wasn’t in the bedroom when the massive tree came down. That I had a full two weeks to find a place for her to go upon discharge. That there was a quiet, sunny room in an assisted living facility close to me, that allowed a cat, a quiet. That I’ve had to deal with home repairs and insurance rather than medical crisis and pharmacological challenges. That the issues that I’ve had to deal with fall within my “skill set” and didn’t involve dealing with dementia, or physical care of mom by me. That the renovation would, ultimately, improve the resale of the house.

In particular, I remember waking one night and tossing and turning, thinking about all that needed to be done, what I had to handle. And in that time, in one of the rarest of my moments with God, He planted in my head a verse “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me” (Phil 4:13). My anxiety dissipated, and I went back to sleep, assured that He who had helped guide me and give me strength would continue to do so.

There is a lot to be thankful for this holiday. And there will continue to be thanks given for all this.

This summer is NOT going down in my book as one of my favorites. Things were difficult enough with a hefty work load, which was mangled up by having Mom break her femur and be in rehab all month. And while things were settling into a new normal, it wasn’t a great normal.

And then the roof caved in.

Literally.

Last Saturday there was a storm in my mother’s neighborhood, one of those surprise, amazingly violet storms. And at 10pm I got the panicky call from a neighbor…a tree had smashed into the house. My heart sank, my body trembled, my anxiety and fear escalated. I went out Sunday morning to see what it was…and was shocked. A 30″ tulip poplar had uprooted and smashed through the roof of the master bedroom in mom’s house. Holes in the roof, broken joists, demolished soffits along the entire length of the house, broken windows.

Oh. My. God.

Now, in addition to dealing with Mom, I have insurance, recovery, and all the rest to deal with. Ugh. UGH. I’m really not prepared. I feel like my blog-friend in BeautyBeyondBones who is going through her own mess with a parental illness and rehab.

And yet….there were two points of amazing blessing, and evidence of God’s provision. First, Mom wasn’t home when the tree came down. If she had been, she’d have died of the impact, or a heart attack, or the fear from being in the dark and storm and debris all alone. So a broken femur saved her. And then, she was supposed to have been evaluated for discharge on the 8th, but had it postponed by a transportation problem. If she had made that appointment, she likely would have been discharged this week — but with no place to go. Now, instead of having two panics in three or four days (starting the house process, and finding her a new place to live with assisted care) I have time.

I’m not always in tuned with God, and His plan. But I sure see His providence in the timing of the last month. And am grateful. Still stressed, still scared, but at least grateful.

Sometimes there are events and incidents where you see your own limitations exposed, laid out all too clearly.

I have never been a particularly generous person. Growing up, it wasn’t demonstrated; parsimony runs pretty strongly through both sides of my family of origin. Still, it sis possible to change, to learn hot to be so thigh hearted.

Over the past 10 years, I have learned to be better at giving, learned to be more generous, learned to think of others. My friend Doug demonstrated it quietly when my men’s group met, by paying the bill or by leaving a 200% tip for the waitress. I learned too, from a friend who had been in the service industry and taught me to say a kind word and think of the servers and waitresses, their meager paychecks and difficult jobs.

I thought progress had been made. At least until…..

I was having a Starbucks with a friend, sitting outside the Mall on a chilly but sunny afternoon. To my surprise (because we don’t expect this in Columbia, especially at the Mall) a man approached, asking for money. Now, while he looked a “panhandler” type, I though, “Okay, if he needs food let’s go inside and get him something to eat”. I was willing to help, but on my terms. My friend was quicker, however. She asked him his name, reached into her purse, quickly handed him a bill (I think it was a twenty) and told him that there was no judgement on how he needed it, that she hoped it would help, and that he’d have a better rest of the day.

Instead of feeling generous with my thought of action, I realized how parsimonious I still was. I was willing to help, but only on my terms of basic need and in a way that I controlled. My friend responded with openness, faith and charity that allowed him the freedom to use it as needed…for good or not, but as he saw fit. And maybe with her attitude, it would encourage him to use it for need. It was a surprising interaction.

Historically I have a difficult time making decisions because I too easily see the other side of an argument. Which is an unusual problem, because too often people are unable or unwilling to consider the other side of an issue! But there have been two decisions I have never regretted, never looked back on, never had second thoughts about.

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The first was a decision to surrender my appointment to a service academy. I was appointed out of high school, and went through the bulk of that first summer. Truth be told, I was admitted by virtue of mind and test tacking abilities, and the body was never, EVER, as good or good enough. The decision to leave was difficult, mostly because of the reaction I would face back home and the need to get into school someplace that fall so I wouldn’t be trapped at home. But although it was difficult, I have never, in all the years, regretted the decision. I still think I could have made a good military officer (more Al Haig than David Petraeus), but I’ve never wished I had stayed, never was sorry I hadn’t pursued that path.

The second decision that I never looked back on was the decision to have a family. Alright, it was a very small family, just one child, but the decision to do it was a long time coming. It took me years to get to “yes”. In fact, I think my then-wife despaired of ever having a child because of my reticence. And yet, once she arrived in our life, I never regretted, never looked back.

It’s interesting that these are the two decisions I have the most confidence in, because they have had very different outcomes. The decision to leave the academy meant I ended up in a school that would take me rather than one I had selected. It meant my major was decided through a certain randomness of taking copious ‘introduction’ classes in my freshman year rather than the history/political science/oceanography major I to which I had aspired. And the major lead to all sorts of ramifications in my career path when an accident (TMI) and politics (Reagan recession) substantially altered my planned paths. But all has turned out acceptably, as I have found a passion for environmental sustainability and planning that I would not have expected.

The decision to have a family….ah, now that’s a different outcome. The divorce and subsequent estrangement from my progeny has produced years of sadness and pain, and even a nervous breakdown. That’s just from my side of the divide, from my perspective. I have to imagine it’s at least as bad from the other side, to grow up in half a family, to have life so dramatically changed. And yet….and yet. I still don’t regret the decision. Even through the emotional distance and disconnect, the love, pride, joy, hope that I feel for her outweighs the pain I’ve felt.

Two decisions. Two turning points in life. Neither regretted. I suppose that is something for which I should be grateful.

There was a story that came out a few days ago about Vice President Mike Pence and that he never eats alone with a woman other than his wife. Apparently the Twittersphere blew up on both sides over this (of course, there is an aspect of redundancy in that, as blowing up is apparently what Twitter is about these days). The Right extols the practice, while the Left ridicules it. And I end up with mixed emotions, but with a sense of unease that bothers me.

On one hand, I think there are times for this sort of approach to life. In particular Rev. Billy Graham has lived by this rule for his entire ministry. In his case, it makes sense. So many are willing to cast aspersions at even the smallest issue or sense of hypocrisy that avoiding even the opportunity for someone to create even the appearance of an issue seems appropriate. For the job he has, and the way ministry works, this seems right.

The article in the Post that has raised this whole issue is a bit odd. The sentence that started this is standalone, not part of a paragraph, and not directly related to either of the two sentences around it. Simply, “In 2002, Mike Pence told the Hill that he never eats alone with a woman other than his wife and that he won’t attend events featuring alcohol without her by his side, either.” The reasoning is that this builds a zone around the marriage.

It leaves a big question though: how does he interact at non-dinner events with a woman? If that answer is out there, I haven’t seen it. And it’s important because if it is dinner events only, it’s much ado about nothing. If it is all types of meetings, it becomes a concern. If he doesn’t meet with a woman or women without someone else around, what he has done is relegated them to a secondary status in the political machine. Much political work is done in private discussions with senior staffers,chiefs of staff, private staff, etc. If a woman in those roles can’t meet with the politician, then she effectively can’t be in those roles in his office or in anyone else’s office that needs to meet with him. And that seems unduly restrictive. And totally patriarchal.

I think what has caused my sense of disquiet has been the reaction of the (religious) right (of which I know many) saying that this situation is as it should be. It bothers me because it conveys a sense of impropriety/danger/problem inherent in individual male-female interactions. It has to be a pair reaction or it’s the appearance of something untoward. It makes it seem as though neither gender can be safe around the other. I ‘get’ that people do wander, stray, cheat, etc. But not everyone, not even most. I have married female friends at work that I talk to one-on-one regularly. At least one of them was a major reason I survived a nervous breakdown 7 years ago (thank you L1!). I value and seek female perspective, especially in a male-dominated work world.

If he wants to value his marriage, great and good. But don’t do so at the expense of others. Take a position where there isn’t the impact on women that comes from politics. Take a position where you don’t limit the role and value of women. Excluding half of the population because they have X not Y seems like bad solution.The world has enough problems; it would be nice if we could bring all our combined resources to deal with them.

The flow of history is strange, with the eddies and currents that form, disperse, and come back to form again. I’m mindful a commitment that I made, and now need to fulfill.

I just finished an abridged biography of the amazing Dietrich Bonhoeffer, which reminded me of another great German name, Martin Niemoller. He is most famously known for the poem “First They Came”

I made a post on a smaller social media site there I quoted this, and made a commitment to remember this and to support it. And so to fulfill my commitment, I need to speak out and state that….

I stand with the LGBT community, for civil liberties, for civil ceremonies of loving relationships, and against discrimination and hatred.

I stand with Muslims seeking the peaceful practice of their faith and their lives, the way I am able to practice mine in this country.

I stand with the immigrants, who seek the type of life that I have and are willing to risk everything in the journey to here to have it.

I stand with the refugees who flee all they have ever known, all that they have, in order to simply live.

And, I stand with America in continuing to be the land of Liberty, the land of welcome, the land of waves of immigrants assimilating into society, strengthening us, and helping us to be the beacon of light we have been for so many years.

I don’t know how many gifts I have received in my life. I suppose that there a way of estimating the number, given a known number of birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries, graduations, etc. For many years receiving gifts was as difficult as giving gifts. I think it comes down to generosity, and not being able to accept or extend it.

Two gifts stand out for me recently in my life. Both have provided me with examples of what generosity is and what makes it so memorable, so important. The first example was three years ago. I had spent the day in the hospital with my mother. As anyone who has been in an ER knows, it isn’t an easy or comfortable process to be there waiting for hours on end, even if the news turns out alright. I was beat that day, physically and emotionally. My friend with the cats had a key to my place at that time, and when I came home she had left a gift on my table. She had left favorite candies of mine (dark chocolate peanut M&Ms, dark chocolate Reese’s miniatures). That she had known my favorites and left them was touching enough, but ….. she gave me three (3!) bags of each! It was, I think, the extravagant generosity of the gift that touched me. Thoughtful, extravagant, unexpected, loved. I still remember the feeling, still have the empty bags as a reminder.

The second was more recent. My friend from my recent road trip, without any reason, gave me a gift. It was an unexpected, unique gift for me; it was the first time someone gave me a piece of jewelry, a cross on a chain. The gift caught me off guard, for a variety of reasons, and I her why she had given it to me. Her response surprised me, and has lingered with me. She told me that during the trip she had noticed, and commented, on my lack of jewelry and asked why. She remembered my response that during and after the divorce, I stopped wearing any because I didn’t feel I was worthy, or more accurately felt too worthless to wear anything. She gave me a cross because she felt that as a symbol of my faith I might wear it when I wouldn’t wear something else. She hoped that in wearing it I would eventually see myself again as worthwhile and begin to forgive myself. An amazing insight and compassion from one conversation, delivered in one gift.

Two very different gifts. My heart touched by both. I’m still trying to learn generosity, still trying to forgive. But gifted to be touched by two such caring people.